


The Night Before

by Marks



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Gen, Seigaku
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-10
Updated: 2007-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:18:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2953763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's only one day left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night Before

**Author's Note:**

> Seigaku gen, no pairings, though I guess lots could be implied. Includes tennis, weirdo transitions, tennis, hospitals, tennis, and a Data Pair phone call. Well, lots of phone calls, actually. Spoilers right up through Genius 340 of the manga.

Oishi and Tezuka stood together at Ryuzaki's office window, Oishi turned around and propped up against the windowsill, Tezuka staring outside, shoulder-to-shoulder. The last fragments of the sunset partially shadowed Tezuka's face and cast long shadows along the classroom floor. Ryuzaki watched them both from her desk, admitting to herself that she was sad to see this season finally slip away, though she couldn't have asked for a better outcome. All of their hard work paid off, had led them to the finals. One more day.

"I have a possible lineup for tomorrow's matches," Tezuka said eventually. Ryuzaki could see he was tired from his match with Chitose though doing an excellent job of covering that up. As expected of Tezuka.

"What did you come up with?" Oishi asked.

Tezuka reached into his pocket and unfolded a piece of ripped out notebook paper covered in writing. He handed it to Oishi. "Please tell me what you think."

"Tezuka," Oishi said slowly, "this isn't your handwriting..."

"I have never faced Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku, if you remember," Tezuka replied.

"I remember." Oishi scanned the paper and nodded. "I think this will work, as long as I can..."

"It will work," Tezuka interrupted.

Ryuzaki cleared her throat. "May I see that, Tezuka-kun?"

\---

"That's _disgusting_ , Momo," Eiji said, awed. "I'll never understand how you can eat so much all at once."

Momo crumpled up a wrapper and threw it at Eiji's head. "It's a scientific fact that grease is necessary to regain optimum biological performance after a hard match, Eiji-senpai, totally necessary!"

Eiji laughed. "That's not true, and you'd better not let Inui catch you doing impressions of him again. You know how mad that makes him." He batted Momo's hands away from his tray. "Oi, off my food!"

"You should have bought him more," Ryoma said sensibly around a mouthful of hamburger.

The restaurant was mostly empty, the dinner rush already done, and the cashiers and line cooks were happy to put up with middle-school student noise, just as long as no one specifically bothered them.

Momo stole a fistful of french fries from Ryoma and shoved them all into his mouth. "Whd ooo urree ss uhnwuh, Ehzun?"

"What?" Eiji and Ryoma said together.

"Uh sid," Momo tried again, then swallowed. "I said, why'd you worry us anyway, Echizen? You didn't have to play that jungle kid."

Ryoma shrugged. "I wanted to play him. Buchou said I could. Though I guess I'll have to wait to beat him for real."

"You didn't even beat him for fake," Momo said, laughing and knocking off Ryoma's hat with greasy fingers to ruffle his hair. "Though it was really cool the way you ripped the ball in half! I didn't even know you could do that. Are you going to try that trick tomorrow against Rikkai Dai, too?"

"Rikkai Dai," Eiji repeated. "Again. Man! I don't want to lose to them."

"You mean like last time?" Ryoma said.

Eiji stuck his tongue out, then grabbed Ryoma's last burger from his tray and tossed it to Momo. "That's what you get, Ochibi. No food for you."

"Thanks, Eiji-senpai!" The burger was gone before Ryoma could even get the "Hey!" of protest out of his mouth.

\---

"Senpai." Kaidoh stared. "What was that just now?"

"Nothing to worry about," Inui replied. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "You played a match today and while I was technically on the roster I did not actually expend any energy in order to gain my win. Also, as I actually had expected to play a doubles match with Tezuka, my energy reserves are at a higher capacity than they would typically be at this hour. It's only logical that any training we do now would be easier for me than you, even in things as simple as 100-meter sprints."

Kaidoh threw Inui a towel. "That was still a lot faster than normal."

Inui pushed up his glasses and smirked. "Kaidoh, am I really that obvious?"

\---

"Lie down, Takashi."

"I'm fine, Dad, I'm fine!" Kawamura protested, wincing as he tried sitting up. He gingerly touched his ribs, feeling the edges of the tape through his hospital gown. "I can't stay here. I have to watch the finals tomorrow."

Kawamura was forcibly shoved back down against his pillows before he could utter another word of protest, staring up wide-eyed at his other visitor.

"Akutsu," Kawamura gasped, pained. His head hurt a lot, and his muscles ached all over on top of that.

"You didn't die like I told you to," Akutsu said. His fingers twitched against Kawamura's neck, like he was flicking ash off an imaginary cigarette, pressing down against a raw scrape.

"Ow," Kawamura replied quietly. "But I did win."

Akutsu snorted. "Like it matters."

"You're not staying here tonight," Kawamura's father told him, "so stop trying to move around. You just have to get a couple of tests done before we get the okay from the doctor. I yelled enough that your doctor thought maybe I was the one that should get my head examined. Do you know how many customers I'm probably losing tonight because of you?"

Kawamura dropped his chin. "A lot?" he suggested sheepishly.

"Goddamn right. Now lay back already like I told you."

"Thanks for coming to see me play," Kawamura said. "Both of you."

\---

"I'll see you tomorrow, Eiji," Fuji said. He grabbed Eiji's sleeve as he turned to go and licked the back of his thumb to clean a smear of ketchup off Eiji's cheek.

" _Fuji_ ," Eiji protested, "my _mom_ does that. Don't be gross."

"Then use a napkin next time," Fuji suggested.

Eiji rolled his eyes. "Oishi, wait up!" He ran off, two victory fingers high in the air. Oishi greeted Eiji with a laugh, offering Fuji a quick wave as they left.

Fuji smiled to himself. Tomorrow would be a good day; he knew it even without the palm reading Yumiko had done for him that morning. Trouble followed by triumph, she'd told him, not that they'd realized exactly how the day was going to end when it had started -- even his sister wasn't that good. And he was still waiting for his triumph.

"You should go home and rest up for tomorrow," Tezuka said, walking up behind and interrupting Fuji's thoughts.

"Why should I do that?" Fuji asked, turning around. "It's not as though you're following your own advice."

Tezuka said nothing, confirming Fuji's hunch.

"I didn't expect to lose today, and I _will not_ lose tomorrow," Fuji told Tezuka. A sudden rush ran through Fuji's body, all the way from his brain to his feet. "If I'm playing, that is."

"A loss is only a loss if you don't grow from it," Tezuka said, absently rubbing his elbow.

Fuji nodded. "I expect we've all done some growing. I'll see you tomorrow, Tezuka. Don't worry," he continued, "I only have one more stop before home."

"Tezuka-buchou, wait!"

"Have a good night, Echizen," Fuji said pleasantly as Ryoma skidded to a stop in front of them. Fuji hefted his bag up on his shoulder and walked off.

\---

Inui stooped down to shove two notebooks and a thermos of juice back into his bag. "Remember what I said, Kaidoh. Overworking yourself wouldn't be beneficial to anyone, especially considering who we're facing tomorrow."

Kaidoh nodded, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"All right then, I'll be going," Inui said, standing up straight again. "You can come out now, Momoshiro."

Momo stepped out from behind a nearby tree, sheepishly running his fingers up the back of his head. His hair was two centimeters higher than usual. "Nothing gets past Inui-senpai," he said.

Inui took two steps toward Momo and grabbed his shoulder, leaning in. "You have one hour. If either of you is out any longer than that, I will find out." He let go and smiled. Momoshiro was nodding and stuttering out incomprehensible syllables. "Good night, Momoshiro, Kaidoh. Good work today."

"Good night, senpai," Kaidoh said. As Inui walked off, he overheard Kaidoh say, "Idiot, did you really think hiding behind trees was going to fool anybody?"

The night was warm, though perfectly within the acceptable temperature limits of a mid-August night, and Inui took his time walking home. He mentally went over the Shitenhouji matches, ticking off Seigaku's successes and failures with each step, effectively stamping down any residual disappointment he felt over not getting to play with Tezuka earlier that day. It had ultimately been for the benefit of the team, after all, and when everything boiled down that was what mattered.

"Nice night, isn't it, Inui?"

Inui shook his head, clearing it, and smiled at Fuji, who was walking in the opposite direction. "Very."

"I have a good feeling about tomorrow," Fuji said, putting up his hand. Their palms slapped together as they passed.

"My data indicates that there's a 100% chance of victory."

"It does not," Fuji called over his shoulder, "but it's nice to pretend. See you tomorrow."

"Have a good night, Fuji," Inui said, turning his head to watch Fuji walk away. "Give him my regards!"

"Of course."

Inui daydreamed the entire remaining four minutes it took to arrive home. The visions of victory, school heroism, and world tennis conquest he usually suppressed played out unabated until he let himself into the house. Everything was quiet, not surprisingly; his parents weren't due back for at least another hour, and it wasn't unusual for them to be delayed. Inui heated up food his mother had left him, ate quickly, and went to his room.

He turned on the light and checked his alarm clock. Twenty seconds early, practically perfect. Inui sat on the bed and counted down. "Three...two...one," he said out loud.

The phone rang.

"Renji."

\---

"Give me back my phone, Eiji."

Eiji batted away Oishi's hands, pressing the phone closer to his ear. "You had Oishi so worried, you should hear him...No, it's fine, he'll get over it...Haha, you should have heard him telling that big Ishida guy all of your injuries! I thought they were both going to cry... _Taka-san,_ no, they didn't cry, don't you get all worked up, too!"

"Eiji."

"Anyway, that was a really cool match. I mean, yeah, we thought you were dead when you got thrown into the stands, but you broke that guy's _wrist_! How great is that?...What do you mean is he okay? Don't you think it's cool, too?"

"Eiji!" Oishi stole the phone out of Eiji's hands. "Sorry about that, Taka-san."

"It's all right," Kawamura said, his voice echoing strangely through the earpiece. It was probably the hospital room. Oishi hated how hospitals echoed every little noise and step, like being stuck in a huge metallic tunnel without any escape. "I'm just glad I'll be able to watch tomorrow's matches. Thanks for calling, I was feeling a little lonely."

"I thought your father was there!" Oishi's eyes went wide. Had he abandoned a teammate in a time of need?

"He was," Kawamura assured him, "but Yuuki-chan told Akutsu that he had to come home, so he gave him a ride. He'll be back soon. I'm waiting for one more X-ray before I can go."

Oishi's shoulders sagged with relief. "That's not too bad."

"No, it's n-- oh, hello." Kawamura sounded surprised, and Oishi could hear someone speaking on Kawamura's side, though he couldn't make out what the person was saying. "Hey, Oishi, I've got to go. Thanks for calling. I'll see you tomorrow."

Kawamura hung up before Oishi could even say goodbye, but he sounded like he was in good spirits and there were so many pressing things for Oishi to be concerned with, so he decided not to dwell on it. He slipped his phone into his bag.

"Ready?" Eiji asked him, twirling his racquet around his wrist.

Oishi nodded.

"How's your wrist?" Eiji grabbed Oishi's arm before Oishi could answer and squeezed. Oishi winced. "I guess that's better than screaming."

"It's fine," Oishi said, bending his hand back and forth. "Let's play some more before it gets too late."

There was something about playing at Seigaku at night that Oishi liked more than anything else. Maybe it was the big stadium lights, or maybe because it was so quiet without the scouts or reporters or first-years practicing their swings. Oishi didn't like being selfish, but sometimes those distractions made it hard for him to think. Sometimes he just wanted tennis for himself.

"Watch your big head, Oishi!" Eiji shouted as he did a handstand and sent the ball whizzing past Oishi's head.

"Nice one, Eiji!"

Himself, plus one other person, of course. That was essential for tennis in general and doubles especially.

Oishi served hard and fast, testing the limits of his wrist. He'd let the team down against Hyoutei, and he wasn't about to do it against Rikkai Dai, too. He had to be sure Tezuka and Eiji were both proud of him.

Eiji grunted as he returned Oishi's serve, but he managed. Then Oishi hit it back, the two of them rallying back and forth for a really long time, until everything melted away for Oishi: the lineup Tezuka showed him, nationals, the court, the worries, the fact that tomorrow would be his last day as a Seigaku regular, the pain in his wrist -- everything but his grip on the racquet, Eiji across the net, and the ball zooming back and forth between them. Eiji finally won the point, but he was sweating and doubled over panting when it was done.

"Maybe we should stop," Oishi suggested. "What use will we be if we can't play tomorrow?" His wrist twinged, and he wondered if he'd be able to play either way. But he didn't dare say that out loud.

Eiji lifted his head and exhaled hard, looking at Oishi with one eye closed. "One more point?"

"One more point, " Oishi agreed.

"Yay!" Eiji shouted, leaping up, suddenly full of energy again. "Then sleepover at my house! You called your parents, right?"

Oishi nodded. "They said it was okay, since it's an important night."

Eiji bounced the tennis ball, then threw it high in the air to serve. "Tomorrow, pancakes for doubles, then winning the national championship!"

It sounded so easy when Eiji put it that way. Oishi laughed. He did like pancakes.

\---

"It's good they don't need to keep you for observation. It's kind of creepy here at night."

Kawamura made some noise of embarrassed agreement. "I guess you would know."

Yukimura laughed, softly. "Very well, yes. I heard about your match with Shitenhouji."

"Already?" Kawamura asked, surprised. "News travels quickly."

"Especially news about our strongest opponents," Yukimura said.

Kawamura wasn't exactly sure why Rikkai Dai's Yukimura had come to see him. It wasn't as though they'd ever spoken with one another, and though Kawamura knew Yukimura by reputation, of course, there was no reason for Yukimura to know who _he_ was. It wasn't as though he could ever be any sort of competition.

"Sacrificing yourself before your team even made the finals must have been difficult. Sitting on the sidelines is never fun," Yukimura said with the tone of someone who knew, "but who knows what the outcome might have been had you not made the decisions you did?"

Kawamura nodded. He knew there was no way he could play tomorrow, but he'd gotten to play most of the season, and he was grateful for that. Being in Yukimura's shoes must have been torture.

There was a knock at the door. Yukimura and Kawamura both looked up.

"Hello, Taka-san," Fuji said, smiling from the doorway. "I didn't realize you had a visitor. I can wait outside."

"No, it's all right," Yukimura said, standing up. "I stopped by to make sure your team was mostly in one piece, and now I'm satisfied. It's nice to officially meet you, Fuji-kun."

Fuji nodded. "Yes, you too. Finally. I suppose we'll see you again in the morning?"

Yukimura patted Fuji's arm as he passed. "I'm looking forward to it."

Kawamura raised his eyebrows when he caught the look on Fuji's face; his eyes were open and gleaming and just a little bit scary.

"So am I," Fuji replied. "Very much so."

As soon as Yukimura was gone, Fuji's usual smile spread across his features. Kawamura tentatively grinned back.

"Taka-san, I've seen you look better."

"It's been a rough day, Fujiko."

Fuji laughed. "Tell me about it."

\---

"Don't tell me what to do, mamushi!" Momo shouted, slamming the ball against the concrete wall.

Kaidoh jumped in front of him to return it. "I'll do what I want. You're too slow to pick up those shots." He leapt out of the way in just enough time to let the ball hit Momo's forehead.

Momo groaned and let his racquet clatter to the ground. He was done, he thought, collapsing with his back pressed to the wall. "You don't even know if I'm playing tomorrow."

"I don't know if I am, either." Kaidoh kept hitting the ball, every shot landing just inches from Momo's head, which the jerk was definitely doing on purpose.

Momo caught the ball and tossed it back to Kaidoh. "Stop it, that's too close," he said, slamming his palm onto the ground next to him. "Our time's almost up anyway, and I don't want to make Inui-senpai mad."

Kaidoh hissed, but didn't protest and slid down the wall next to Momo, shoulder-to-shoulder, and almost crushed Momo's hand in the process.

"I want to play," Momo whined. Kaidoh had produced a water bottle from somewhere, which Momo stole. He took a huge drink, finishing half the bottle in a gulp.

"Asshole." Kaidoh elbowed Momo's side and took back his water, draining the rest. "So what. Everyone wants to play, and both of us have next year," he reminded Momoshiro. But he sounded like he was trying to convince himself, too, and when Momo glanced over at him, his face was all twisted up. Kaidoh wasn't fooling Momo, not at all.

"One more rally?" Momo suggested.

Kaidoh was on his feet in a blink. "I'll beat you," he growled, pulling Momo to his feet.

Momo picked up his racquet and glared. "You will not."

"Will too."

"Will _not_."

"Just hit the ball."

"Don't tell me what to do!"

\---

The court under the train station was deserted and dark. Ryoma stared up at Tezuka, panting hard.

"You can do it, Echizen," Tezuka said, holding his racquet loosely at his side. He was sweating at least as hard as Ryoma was, but he didn't even sound out of breath. "You've beaten Sanada before, so I know it is within your ability, but you must never underestimate your opponent. Do you understand?"

"One more point?" Ryoma suggested. He stood up and twisted his upper body, cracking his back.

"One more."

\---

Inui lay back against his pillow, staring up at his ceiling. The crack that ran directly above his bed had grown another three centimeters since the last time he'd looked, meaning he would have to repair it soon. He sighed.

"Sadaharu?"

"I'm still here, Renji," Inui said, adjusting his telephone so it was situated more comfortably.

"Did you have anything else you needed to discuss?" Yanagi asked. His voice was quiet, so quiet that Inui had to mash the phone to his ear to hear him better. That eliminated a degree of comfort, but when deciding between comfort and Yanagi, the choice was obvious.

"Not really."

"Do you wish to end the call then?"

Inui paused. "Not really."

"All right then."

They sat in silence for approximately two minutes, eight seconds, Inui just listening to Yanagi breathe.

"Renji?" Inui said finally.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for your help yesterday," Inui said. "I'm only sorry that your data on Oshitari Kenya wasn't utilized in the way we had intended."

"The end result was still the same," Yanagi said reasonably.

"Yes. However..."

Yanagi cleared his throat, interrupting. "However nothing. I have always thought that looking toward the future instead of dwelling on the past is the only way to retain sanity."

"There is a sixty-eight percent chance the match results would have been the same had there not been a lineup change," Inui said.

"Or perhaps I misjudged and sanity is too far gone a concept for you. Aren't you looking forward to tomorrow?"

Inui closed his eyes. "Of course I am."

"Then shut up about Shitenhouji already."

"Ay, ay, Kyouju."

Yanagi snorted. "I suppose I should also thank you for the data on Nagoya Seitoku's recruitment program."

"I never gave you any such thing," Inui said, rolling onto his side, phone still trapped tight against his ear.

"Yes, I'm sure it was the mailman that gathered all of that information about the foreign exchange students, put it into a plain brown wrapper with a red stamp labeled Top Secret, and slipped it under our Welcome mat."

Inui smiled. "Must have been."

"You've always been so transparent, Sadaharu."

"The me I am today is not the me I was yesterday, nor the me I'll be tomorrow," Inui replied.

Yanagi paused. "What was that?"

"Nothing," Inui said. "Just looking to the future, as you suggested."

"Well, it's about time you started taking my advice."

\---

Ryoma slammed the door shut, dropping his bag and throwing his sweaty cap on top of a pile of his disgusting pig father's dirty magazines. He scowled.

"Somebody's home late!" Nanjiroh greeted, delighted, sprawling out over the front stairs. "Did you have a hot date?"

"Yeah, with Tezuka-buchou," Ryoma said. He rolled his eyes .

Nanjiroh narrowed his eyes. "How'd I get stuck with a son like you?"

"Luck, I guess."

"Yeah, _bad_ luck," Nanjiroh replied, standing up. He threw one arm around Ryoma's shoulders and ground his fist into Ryoma's scalp. "Big day tomorrow, too, though I guess the old lady isn't anyone's idea of hot."

Ryoma stared up.

"Anymore," Nanjiroh added with a wink.

Ryoma stared more, then broke out of his father's grip. "Ew. Will you play a match with me?"

"How many matches have you played today?" Nanjiroh asked, then let out a long-suffering sigh. "I suppose crushing you once won't kill me. Let's go, kid."

"Dad." Ryoma stared down at the ground. "Just...please put your shoes on."

\---

Kawamura's father went to fill out paperwork, while Fuji helped Kawamura get out of the hospital bed and change into the sweats Kawamura-san had brought along. It was painful to watch Kawamura move so slowly, but after his loss to Shiriashi Fuji suddenly understood why people might surrender their whole selves that way. Tennis wasn't life or death, but it had an uncanny way of _feeling_ like it was.

"Ready to go!" Kawamura-san said, pulling back the privacy curtain and shouldering Kawamura's bag.

Kawamura nodded at his father, flinching as he shoved his feet into his sneakers. The walking cast made Kawamura's leg look a little awkward, especially with the shoelaces pulled out of the shoe. He smiled at Fuji, even though he obviously was in pain. "You should probably go home and get some sleep, Fuji."

Fuji shook his head. "Yuuta is home tonight. I'll probably talk to him for a little while first. He saw my match today."

"Well, I guess talking can't be helped then. But don't stay up too late," Kawamura warned. "It's bad for your form."

"Says the one with the broken ribs, taped up thigh, minor concussion, and dislocated ankle." Fuji tugged Kawamura's arm around his shoulders, forcing some of the weight onto his shoulders.

"Yeah, well, we can't all play the way you do. Are you excited for tomorrow?" Kawamura asked. He groaned and settled more of his weight onto Fuji.

Fuji smiled. "I'm definitely something. Hey, what do you think will happen if we give you your racquet while you cheer?"

"Takashi's racquet stays home," Kawamura-san said firmly, holding the door open as they left.

Kawamura rolled his eyes. "Dad, don't be embarrassing. C'mon, Fuji, we'll give you a ride home."

\---

"Renji?"

"Mmm?" Yanagi yawned audibly.

Inui glanced at the clock and raised his eyebrows. "It's late."

"Mmm," Yanagi said again. "I think I'm falling asleep on you, Sadaharu."

"At least you can't drool over the phone."

Yanagi laughed. "Shut up. I don't drool."

"I have photographic evidence to the contrary."

"That doesn't count, it's not recent," Yanagi protested.

Inui wisely remained silent.

"...Sadaharu."

Inui smirked. "Yes?"

"I don't have the energy to deal with you at the moment, but don't think I'll forget this conversation, either."

"I'd never underestimate you like that," Inui said.

Yanagi yawned again. "I'll see you in seven hours. Go to sleep."

"Good night, Renji."

"Don't stay up half the night analyzing your data. No matter what it tells you, I can tell you the winner will be Rikkai."

Inui shook his head and shifted on his bed. "Don't drool all over your pillow."

There was a pause. "Shut up."

"Yes, I'm very fond of you, too. But Seigaku will win."

"Good night, Sadaharu."

Inui disconnected from Yanagi's call, and hit number one on his speed dial. Tezuka picked up after half a ring.

"Impressive," Inui said. "That was point-oh-eight seconds faster than the time it usually takes you to answer."

Inui launched into his usual recitation of facts and figures before Tezuka could stop him, analyzing everything from the velocity of Echizen's serve when compared to the average wind speeds of the stadium to the chances that Eiji's lucky boxer shorts had made a significant contribution to their winning season. When he was done, Inui waited ten seconds for the expected click, but got nothing but silence on the other end.

"Hello?" Inui said finally. Perhaps no one had ever answered at all and Inui had been mistaken.

"Inui." No, sure enough, Tezuka was connected.

"Yes, Tezuka?"

"Thank you for the match suggestions. They were very well thought out, and we will most likely use them," Tezuka said. _Then_ he hung up.

Inui stared at his phone, baffled and pleased. He pushed his socks off with his toes, placed his phone on his desk and checked to see if his alarm was set properly. Then, he removed his glasses, turned off the light, and took five and a half seconds to situate himself under his covers.

"See you tomorrow, Renji," he muttered to himself before he drifted off. "Seigaku fight."


End file.
